amour coriace ( five hargreeves! ) - Chapter 34: Chapter 34

VINCENT WAS THINKING OF GIVING UP CURSING. But, FUCK.
Vincent knew, in all actuality, that everyone dies. In the end, death is the only thing standing in anyone's way and that's the only plausible reason as to why it's so goddamn scary. It was the unknown, the idea of making others upset on your behalf. Vincent knew this, but that didn't make him any happier when he felt the cold dread in his stomach. He knew he was going to die here before he'd even fallen to his knees.
And when he'd fallen to his knees, he knew for sure. It didn't feel all too great.
Vincent knew how he must have looked then, on his knees with both hands— oddly heavy at his wrists and limp like never before— dragging up to touch his own face in what seemed like slow motion, letting out a tiny choked laugh when he felt more blood than anything; his face was practically soaked in it. His own blood, dripping from his eyes and his nose and his ears and maybe his mouth too. Vincent couldn't completely tell. But he was bleeding so much that he almost didn't feel it. Almost.
His hand slowly moved to the source of his outlandishly horrid pain, down to his stomach. He hadn't even noticed that he was hurt there. He pressed down lightly, and he knew the sound he let out was bad when he briefly heard Luther let out a breathless "I'm gonna throw up" through the ringing in his ears. He hadn't even noticed them moving down from the stage. He couldn't bring himself to look at any of the others.
He moved to look down at his stomach, almost frantically trying to pull up his shirt to see what the fuck had just happened, but his hands were quickly moved away, his wound hidden from him in favor of Five's trembling hands. Vincent looked up at Five slowly, grinning weakly at his horrified expression.
"Hey, buddy. What the fuck happened to me?" Vincent laughed out lightly before coughing harshly, falling back on his ass with the force of it, placing both hands on the cold ground underneath his body before spitting out a glob of blood beside him. He laughed more after that. Laughing made him feel better. On the inside Vincent was doing nothing more than freaking out.
Vincent grit his teeth a little, looking up at the ceiling slowly to hide his pained expression. He missed the incredible feeling of being filled with power. He felt like he could cry from it all, but the blood tears were good enough, he supposed. He felt Five's hand on his knee, felt Five leaning over him, barely heard Five ask him something through his blood-filled ears. Vincent looked at him slowly, and all he did was point at his ear weakly. Vincent's hands were shaking so much it felt like they'd rattle off his wrist. It would have been hilarious to him had he not been dying.
Dying. What a funny word. Dying. Dying. Dying. He was dying. All of that, just to die. Dying, dying, dying. Dying felt worse than Vincent could have ever imagined because dying hurts, at least when you're someone like Vincent.
Or maybe seeing Five Hargreeves on the verge of tears was what made it so bad. Watching through hooded eyes as the person that Vincent could very confidently say he was horribly in love with stiffened before him as the inevitable finally dawned on him. Vincent was going to die, and he should have seen it coming.
"—Vincent. Vincent! Guys—" That was Diego's voice, so very frantic. Vincent had made a friend just to hurt him, and isn't that funny? That's all he seemed to be good for. Diego knelt beside Vincent, his eyes wide. "What do we do?" He asked, flinching when Vincent laughed in his face, flinching harder when his laugh became a pained sob.
Vincent reached a hand up in the direction of Klaus for a moment, taking Klaus's hand in his grip tightly. He wasn't surprised to see Klaus with a shellshocked expression on his face. Klaus could undoubtedly feel his death already. "Be honest with me; am I gonna die here?" Vincent asked much too slowly, holding onto his hand tighter.
Klaus looked at the others nervously, his gaze staying on Five. He let out a small sigh, something terrible and shaky underneath it. He didn't say anything, and only nodded.
Vincent wasn't laughing anymore, not because he didn't want to but because he couldn't. He looked at the others, at Allison and Luther standing stiff to the side, at Diego's panicked expression, at Klaus's tears, at Five's face that could only be described as afraid. He looked at the others and felt the worst he'd ever felt. He was going to hurt them by dying here.
"I'm sorry—" Vincent started softly, trying to sit up, pushed back down a little by Diego, willing him to lean against an auditorium seat. Five moved closer, oddly quiet and pale.
"Why the hell are you apologizing? You're dying. Jesus Christ," Diego cursed under his breath, looking at Five and gesturing to Vincent's bloody stomach. Five nodded at Diego, but Vincent noticed the way his jaw stiffened at the idea of seeing what exactly Vincent had accidentally done to himself with his power.
Diego slowly lifted Vincent's shirt, and the noise Vincent let out when he saw it was strangled, his lip trembling so hard he thought for a moment that he was going to scream. He did not scream, but his breathing did quicken as he looked up at everyone else.
Vincent's stomach, mangled and horrible, had at least twenty gunshot wounds arrayed across it, bleeding worse than Vincent could have imagined. He didn't know how he hadn't died yet, though he figured it was a direct byproduct from the power he'd accumulated. It was grotesque, and Vincent saw Five look at him quickly, saw the wet of the boys cheeks. Five crying was supposed to be a liberating experience. Five crying was supposed to be something that made Vincent laugh. Now, Five crying was something that made Vincent want to die faster.
"How— I didn't get shot that many times," Vincent choked out a bit, bringing his free hand up to wipe the blood dripping from his eyes. Why the fuck was his face bleeding then? "My face—?"
"You did get shot that many times. We just thought you deflected them or something," Finally Five spoke up, though his voice was weird. It was soft, not at all authoritative like it usually was. It was sad more than anything, sad enough to make all of his siblings look at him like he was the one dying. "Your face and ears started bleeding from taking Vanya's power. I don't know how you did that. I don't know how you can still hear."
The thing was, Vincent couldn't exactly still hear. Both of his ears were ringing loudly, and every goddamn thing was muffled. He was really reading lips to get what he needed, but he didn't have the heart to break it to Five. He could hear well enough.
"Hey... calm down, will you?" Vincent started, pointing at Five before gesturing for him to come closer to him, pushing his own shirt down so Five wouldn't have to see anymore. "It's okay."
"It's not— fuck— it's not okay," Five almost whispered out, his voice absurdly wobbly. "What do we do?"
"Nothing you can do, baby," Vincent grinned at Five, letting go of Klaus's hand- to Klaus's audible dismay- in favor of placing it on Five's cheek, wiping away his tears with his blood-stained fingers. Counterintuitive, Vincent knows. "I'm gonna die here. And you're gonna go save your stupid world and your equally as stupid family."
"You're not going to die," Five responded almost frantically, shaking his head. "You can't—"
"Oh, but I can," Vincent chuckled weakly. "And I am. Better to accept it now. Do you see my eyes bleeding? I'm like Bloody Mary."
"Does Bloody Mary bleed from her eyes? What an odd children's tale," Klaus laughed out from beside Vincent, making him grin the best he could.
"Vincent," Five whispered out, his hand shaking so badly where he placed it atop Vincent's hand. "I can't do all of this without you." Five was his, truly. His Icarus. His, his, his.
"Bullshit. I was meant to die from the start. You didn't kill me, but they did. They won. Check and fucking mate," Vincent shrugged, wincing at the pain that came with it. "I'm glad they won." At Five's confused expression, Vincent brought his other hand up to gently brush Five's hair back. "If I'm losing, it means you're winning, doesn't it? They've wanted me dead forever."
"That's not what that means at all! We're supposed to be winning together," Five rambled out, clearly surprised when Vincent pulled him down hard to hug him. Sure, it hurt like a total bitch to hug someone in this state, but if Vincent was going to die anyway there was no reason to be cautious. He wrapped one arm around Five's waist, his other hand coming up to card through Five's hair. Five hugged back after a moment of tension, arms wrapping around Vincent's torso as carefully as he could.
If he was going to die, he might as well die holding what he loved most.
"We were never gonna win together. One or nothing, cutie," Vincent grinned, ignoring just how numb his body was getting, how messy his thoughts were becoming, how his eyes were threatening to flutter shut forever.
"We have no more time, guys—" Luther started, looking annoyed more than anything when Allison smacked his arm.
"We have time. We have fucking time," Five retorted harshly.
"You've got no time. Not to agree with the ape, but he's right," Vincent mumbled much too softly, looking up when he saw Ben standing over him with a deep frown. He smiled a little up at the ghost, chuckling when Ben's pitiful expression only grew. "You're all cool. Even Luther, I guess. Thanks for not killing me the second I broke into your house." He spoke slowly. He knew his voice was slurring and he knew he felt so tired.
Klaus placed his hand on the top of Vincent's head gently, keeping it there. Diego placed his hand on Vincent's shoulder and squeezed. Vincent thought he could get used to Diego not hating him and vice versa.
"No— Vince. Vince." Five started, much more muffled than before. Vincent assumed he felt the slowing of his heartbeat. Vincent forced himself to laugh softly, watching as Five slowly peeled himself away, watching with horror.
"I do love you, shortcake. Maybe we'll have some more luck when I inevitably reincarnate as the 69th U.S. president," Vincent's smile wobbled, trembled, and then fell as his breathing slowed more. "Woo. This isn't fun." He mumbled, though he wasn't sure he actually said it out loud.
"I love you too," Five added quickly, hands moving to Vincent's cheek desperately, trying to wipe the blood away, shaking his head as he did it. Vincent couldn't tell if Five was crying, but he assumed he was. Five had always cared too much.
Vincent vaguely heard someone tell Five that it was too late, it's okay. He heard Five yell something back with that fiery anger Vincent knew so well, but he heard nothing after that.
He felt tired, like how he did after staying up for two days straight. So he decided maybe going to sleep would be the best option. Yeah, he should just go to sleep.
His eyes shut and his breathing stopped, and Vincent slept.
Breathe out.
"What the hell?"
Diego's voice. Huh.
Breathe in, I guess.
All too fast, everything was everything again. Vincent's eyes shot open and he sat up so hard that he nearly headbutted the seat next to him. He coughed loudly, cradling his stomach and curling in on himself. He vaguely recalled everyone- except Klaus, who was standing behind Vincent with both hands on Vincent's head- rushing to stand around him, and he could see Five standing the closest, eyes wide. Vincent would do anything for Five.
Vincent shuddered when he felt a new surge of power, realizing too late that he'd absorbed some from Klaus. Klaus in particular because of his relationship with death. Vincent briefly wondered if he'd taken too much, but Klaus didn't seem at all affected.
"Woah!" Klaus immediately exclaimed from behind him, putting his hands up and staring at his palms. "That... Did I do that?" He asked incredulously, though Vincent could barely hear it.
Vincent weakly nodded his head, taking in a slow exhausted deep breath. Who knew that dying and then immediately being resurrected would be so tiring? "You... did something. Thanks," is all Vincent could possibly whisper out, pulling his shirt up slowly to look again at his wound.
There were gasps- or maybe just hissing breaths- around him when they saw it. The bullet wounds were slowly closing up; he was healing right before their eyes. Vincent could feel it, but he couldn't tell if it hurt or not. He was too out of it to register anything.
He was pretty sure Five's hand had moved to his shoulder. He felt it squeeze once, twice, three times. Vincent tried to lift his head up, but his neck only seized up. He let his head hang low, staring at the ground, stained by his own blood. His ears were ringing so loudly it hurt. He couldn't hear anything for a while, up until he could.
"—cent! Vincent! Hey!" A voice exclaimed loudly, and Vincent was a little embarrassed when he jumped, flinching back hard against Klaus's legs. Kneeling in front of Vincent was Diego, looking relieved yet still full of panic. Vincent wanted to laugh. He didn't. "Can you hear me?" Diego asked.
Vincent slowly nodded his head, bringing a hand up to feel his own ear, still dripping slowly with blood but healing slowly like the rest of him. "Klaus. I accidentally stole some of your power. Sorry," He whispered tiredly, leaning his head against an auditorium seat, gripping tightly onto Klaus's ankle.
"What? Oh, this old thing?" Klaus gestured to his body. "It's all good! Maybe you'll absorb some of my abilities and we can be twinsies!" He exclaimed with a wide smile, his cheeks still tear-stained. "Plus, I did that little number on purpose. Ol' Ben walked me through it like the good ghost bitch he is. Helped that you're like a... what do they call the things that suck the power...queer?!" He smiled. "I'm joking. Christ, Ben, don't give me that look." Vincent watched Ben appear in front of him, seeming annoyed by Klaus but relieved by Vincent not also becoming a ghost.
Vincent chuckled softly, gritting his teeth when he tried to sit up again. Five gripped his shoulder tighter, making him stay sitting. Vincent's gaze slowly turned to the boy beside him, his lips quirking up just barely at the sight of him. "You owe me a million thousand dollars. You cried when I died," He mumbled out, bringing one bloody hand to Five's cheek, wiping away the excess tears.
"Fuck you. You're still gonna be insufferable?" Five mumbled back, though there was no heat in his voice. He wasn't angry, but he seemed beyond tired. Beyond out of it. Vincent couldn't help but feel guilty. That was his fault. Five leaned into Vincent's touch, and for a moment they both forgot what exactly was going to happen in a few minutes.
"It's my brand," Vincent cracked a smaller smile before looking around at everyone else. "Forget about me being sentimental. I never said I liked you guys, got it? In fact, if anyone asks, I said that I can't wait to drag you all to hell with me." He spoke up, sighing in relief when everyone groaned and rolled their eyes.
"Klaus, how did you do that?" Five started before pausing. "Scratch that. What did you do?"
"I put my hands on his head and thought real long and hard about how I wanted him alive and, what do you know, Vincey Vince here can absorb power, but I guess we already knew that! It was awesome. I didn't let him take much because, duh, I have to be the best sibling here, but I gave him enough that he could get that heart beating again and his wounds healed," Klaus smiled proudly. He furrowed his brow. "Although I'm not sure where those bullets went. He may have absorbed those as well." He laughed loudly.
Vincent looked up at Klaus, raising his eyebrow. "That's gross," He muttered slowly, voice rough. "Someone help me up. We're all gonna die in a minute," Then he turned to Five and mumbled, "The Commission is gonna be so pissed. This was not supposed to happen."
Quickly, Luther and Diego made work of lifting Vincent up and dragging him to the auditorium stage where they had previously been. Vincent was proud to say that he only cursed them out for five seconds respectively due to the horrible pains that had not yet dissipated. The others seemed slightly impressed by the lack of mania.
They all stood in a circle, holding hands. That part made Vincent laugh hysterically to the point where he almost cried. (He couldn't cry. The blood in his eyes was still thick and terrible. The others didn't find it so funny that Vincent's eyes were still dripping red.) He laughed more when Five started talking and his voice wobbled when he looked at Vincent. Though Vincent held Five's hand tighter at that, too. Vincent laughed even more when he imagined the Handler standing before him, muttering to him that he's out of time, so out of time. He laughed the most when he imagined shooting her in the face.
Vincent had to admit he had lost a lot of blood.
Five had continued talking throughout this, and Vincent stopped laughing immediately when a huge cloud of blue sprung over them.
Fuck.
Vincent looked at Five, Five with his focused yet worrisome expression, and smiled wide when he saw Five staring back. Five smiled a little, and Vincent found that he still didn't give a shit about the end of the world. All he gives a shit about is here, in this circle.
And they would be fine.
Vincent didn't know who he was or what he was doing. He had loved and he had died and he had come back to life. He had seen Five Hargreeves cry and now he could see Five Hargreeves break.
From the beginning, Vincent Leblanc held a power that surged through his veins and shot out through his whole body when he needed it the most. But no longer did he feel ordinary. He felt extraordinary despite his gruesome end. Though end wasn't the right word, was it?
No, this was only the beginning.
The beginning of this tough love Vincent had with life, with Five Hargreeves, with the Umbrella Academy. Tough love is the beginning, in every version of this story. L'amour coriace nous brise tous, bien qu'il nous fortifie. Vive l'anarchie, enculés.
l'amour coriace nous brise tous, bien qu'il nous fortifie. vive l'anarchie, enculés. - Tough Love breaks us all, though it strengthens us. Long live anarchy, motherfuckers.